by Julie Law
“Nothing I can’t fix.” Daisy replied quickly, turning back to her cabinet and her potions, leaving the struggling Isolde prepped against the table.
The empress heard the clinking of bottles against bottles, but she couldn’t gather enough focus to look at the witch. It was her fault, after all. She was suffering like that because of the blonde, and she would enjoy nothing more than to put her hands around the witch’s throat and squeeze.
Suddenly the witch was in front of her, with another bottle in hand, but Isolde let her emotions get the best of her and pushed the blonde away, unable to trust the witch’s potions once more.
Daisy was surprised, it was obvious in how she lost her footing and fell to the ground, grabbing the edge of the cauldron she had been working on as she did it, and spilling its contents over herself.
Isolde laughed, she couldn’t help it, the sight was too funny. Daisy was blinking, and looking from the potion spilled all over her to the empress, and back again, her mouth opening and closing. Another spear of lust went through Isolde and she closed her eyes, muffling her cries. She couldn’t let anyone else see her like that, she could only imagine what her subjects would say about her if they did.
A cry echoed through the room and Isolde froze, wondering if she had been the one to release it, if she had lost enough composure to let out such a needful moan escape her without even meaning to, but another moan came after the first, and she turned to Daisy, realizing the witch was the one moaning.
It could almost be payback, something whispered inside Isolde’s mind, that the witch seemed to be suffering as she was.
Then she watched as Daisy pushed down her long skirts, and her undergarments, baring herself. Even the sight of the treasure between the witch’s thighs was enough to spurn Isolde’s lust, though she had never cared much for the fairer sex, but what really made her blood boil with need was what happened afterwards.
Daisy’s flesh seemed to shift, so slightly at first that Isolde only blinked, thinking she was wrong, but there was no denying something was happening, not when her flesh seemed to extend and grow upwards in the form of a cock.
Isolde blinked again, not quite believing her eyes. The sheer surprise of what she was seeing was enough to make her forget about her lust for a few moments, and she opened her mouth, and then closed it without saying anything. She couldn’t take her eyes off the appendage though, and took a step forward before noticing what she was doing and stopping.
She shook her head, and tried to turn away, but couldn’t.
Daisy moaned again, and the sound was enough to make the empress shiver. She should turn away and flee, ignore her lust and desire and hide in her room, but she was rooted in place, looking at that hard flesh.
The witch arched from the ground and her hand came to rest on that rod, starting to stroke it. Isolde swallowed, and tried to move her eyes, tried to turn her head and look at something else, but eventually her gaze would turn back to the witch and her struggle to reach pleasure.
She took a step without really thinking about it, and then stopped, knowing what she wished to do and what she should do were two very different things. Then the blonde moaned again, and she was lost.
Isolde walked until she stood beside the witch and looked down at her. Daisy was seemingly lost in the throes of whatever it was that came over her, but at Isolde’s proximity, she opened her eyes and looked right into Isolde’s orbs. The empress gazed seriously at the other woman, her face carved from stone, and then reached out with one foot, using it to press against Daisy’s rod.
The witch gasped and arched into that hold, even when it started getting more painful as Isolde’s foot pressed down.
The mocha skinned woman was angry, and full of desire, and the two emotions were conflicting in a way she wouldn’t be able to explain. She had never wanted to hurt one of her partners during sex, dominate them yes, hurt never, and she didn’t exactly want to hurt Daisy, but she wouldn’t mind seeing her flinch for a bit.
She pressed harder, momentarily, just until Daisy reacted, and then retreated. The whine that escaped the witch’s throat made a shiver run down her back, and she shuddered. She leaned down and unlaced her shoes, then pressed her now naked foot against Daisy’s rod. It was warm, and just as hard as it looked, and she couldn’t resist the temptation to move her foot up and down, caressing it.
The witch moaned again. She tried to put one hand against Isolde’s foot, hoping to direct the woman’s motions, but the empress kicked it away. She was being forced into following Isolde’s whims, and she didn’t mind at all. All she wanted was to have her release, to feel the pleasure that the potion in her veins wanted to grant her.
Isolde licked her lips. She had never much cared for the fairer sex, though she had experimented a little when she was younger, but the sight of the witch trashing under her foot was making her feel warmer than she had been in a long time. A part of her knew it was because of the potions the other woman had given her, but there was something about the knowledge that there was someone completely at her mercy that really appealed to her.
A moment after that thought, another pulse of lust went straight through her sex, and the empress couldn’t resist. She would have enjoyed forcing the witch to crawl on her hands and knees to beg for release, but she wasn’t feeling much better than the blonde. She needed to have her pleasure as well.
She had just enough focus to start unlacing her dress and then pull it over her head before joining the witch on the floor.
Isolde climbed atop of Daisy, moaning a little as she pressed her covered sex against the woman’s hard rod, grabbing unto the witch’s hands when they made to grab her bare breasts. For a moment, she thought of allowing the witch’s touch, but she was in control there, always would be, and she would decide how they entertained each other.
She pushed the witch’s hands above her head, against the ground, and stopped just inches away from Daisy’s face, letting their eyes meet. She lingered for a while, just meeting the other woman’s orbs, then let her own move to the witch’s mouth. Daisy’s lips were full, wide and redder than those of any other woman she had seen, and in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to taste them. So, she did so.
She was the empress, she ruled these lands and all of those within, and the witch wouldn’t escape her grasp. Not that she seemed to want to, if the manner in which the other woman kissed her back was any indication, or in how her hips thrust in an attempt for her rod to find comfort inside of Isolde.
Isolde shuddered. There was nothing she wanted more right then than to feel that rod entering her, and after a moment she wondered why waste time.
She pulled back from their kiss, and then reached down with one hand, trying to pull her undergarments down. It was a struggle, and she only really succeeded when the witch helped as well. There wasn’t enough time to appreciate that success however, because right after, Daisy shifted and somehow that allowed her to find what she wished for.
Isolde only gasped when the other woman’s rod pushed inside of her. She had never felt anything as wonderful as that, never had lovemaking managed to make her enjoy so much from so little, and though she was aware the potions were responsible for it, it didn’t stop her from wanting to feel the same again. She needn’t have worried.
Daisy wanted that pleasure just as much as Isolde, and she pushed deeper into the empress, thrusting her hips. It was an unfamiliar motion for her, she had never done anything of the kind, not as the one with the rod, but though clumsy her attempts were well received by the woman above her.
As the moments went by, they grew more accustomed to the motions, more practiced and less clumsy, and soon they were moving into one another. Isolde struggled not to moan every time Daisy’s rod entered her in full, but it was impossible to resist completely, and cries of pleasure escaped her often enough.
The witch didn’t care about that. She wanted to feel sated, she wanted to reach the highest of pleasures, and so she grasped Isol
de’s waist and used that grip to thrust harder and stronger, faster as well, entering the empress again and again with her full length.
With so much contributing to their pleasure, it was inevitable they reached it fairly quickly. Daisy gasped when her rod started to throb, and pulled Isolde all the way down, letting herself take refuge within the empress. The quickness of that motion made Isolde moan out loud, and she felt the witch release inside of her. That release called to her own and she came as well.
They trashed against one another in the midst of their orgasms, and then they came down from them, still entwined. Isolde knew even then that was only a temporary reprieve: she could still feel lust gathering in the back of her mind, ready to overwhelm her again. She shifted a little, and then paused as she felt Daisy’s rod. The witch was still hard, and it surprised her very much, almost as much as it delighted her.
Without anything that would resemble a conscious thought, she started moving against the witch once more, moaning when the other woman followed her clue and moved back against her.
Soon they reached another orgasm, and then another and another.
They changed positions and enjoyed each other once more, and it reached a point where Isolde simply forgot who she was, and where she was. Who she was fucking. The only thing that mattered was the pleasure her companion could give her, and how she enjoyed that skin pressed against hers. Part of her marveled at the contrast between their colors, her brown skin against Daisy’s pale one, her dark hair against the witch’s golden curls.
She would pull the other woman against her and kiss her, and Daisy would reply in kind, entwining their tongues, and that would be just the start of another round of lovemaking.
More than once, Isolde had trailed down and tasted Daisy’s rod, putting her lips around it and suckling, kissing it, letting it enter her mouth. Daisy always returned the favor, and the feel of that tongue between her nether lips was something Isolde wasn’t sure she would ever be able to forget.
They only stopped loving each other when they were completely spent, and Isolde breathed deeply and settled against Daisy, ignoring the thought that hours earlier she would more quickly try to throttled the blonde than hug her. Even then, after all they’d shared, part of her lust wasn’t completely abated, especially once she felt the witch’s breasts against hers, but she was too tired, and fell asleep without another thought.
Chapter 3
“… And so, we can conclude our harvest will be more than enough to feed our people this year, without having to rely on foreign imports.”
Her seneschal nodded and glanced at her, but Isolde wasn’t paying much attention, and simply gestured for them to continue. She should focus on the council but, unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to focus on anything in the last days. Oh, the haze of lust had diminished, though it was once more slowly building up, and wasn’t the reason she couldn’t focus. The one who she sated it with before was.
The golden-haired witch was always present in her thoughts since they shared themselves with one another, and she couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t the first time she had been with someone else, it wasn’t even the first time she had been with a woman, though she had never enjoyed those occasions as much as whenever she slept with a strapping male. And yet, she couldn’t get rid of the image of the other naked woman, or forget the sensation of their frames against one another.
Isolde was aware the potions they had consumed might have something to do with it, but it didn’t exactly solve the problem. It had only been three days since she had been with the witch, and already she was aching to enter the woman’s study and force her against one of the walls. For someone who had always prided herself in her self-control, to be so unbalanced was … a little daunting.
One of her military commanders started speaking, and she tried to pay attention once more, only to find her eyes drifting to the door she knew would lead her towards the witch. She breathed deeply, anger mounting.
She didn’t know if she was angry at herself or at the witch. Or perhaps the witch’s clumsiness. If Daisy had been able to give her the right cure, none of what happened afterwards would have occurred, and she would be feeling normal right then. Unfortunately, there was no way to undo the past, and she could only bear the consequences of it.
She started tapping her foot against the floor, and only noticed she was doing so when her entire council looked her way, sudden dread in their eyes. They had never seen their empress behaving so erratically before, and most knew the fate that awaited them should they have done something to displease her.
Isolde noticed what she was doing and stopped, and gestured for them to continue. It was for naught though. She couldn’t focus on their words, couldn’t care less about army rations or expenditures right then, and eventually she got to her feet, aware her council stilled once more.
“I trust you know what’s needed of you, and that none will fail me.” Her voice left them no doubts about what would happen if they did. “I find myself in need of solace, I’ll leave my trustworthy seneschal to take care of the matters that might need me.” She glanced at the man, and watched him swallow, before turning on her feet and leaving the throne room.
She hesitated once more after leaving their sight, and glanced at the guards that had fallen in position behind her. Any other time, if she had felt as lustful as she was feeling, she might have dragged the two of them into her chambers and let them worship her, but while the thought wasn’t completely unappealing, she realized she wanted something else. Someone else.
The memory of the witch’s taste, the feel of that pale skin against hers almost made Isolde moan out loud, but she managed to control herself. She dismissed her guards once she reached her room, and then laid on the bed, slowly undressing herself and letting the air caress her skin. She almost didn’t notice her own hands gliding down her body, not at first.
She bit her lip, and wondered if she should do it or not. The temptation was too great however, and she was empress, she could do whatever she wished. Her aching nipples were the first thing she focused on, caressing and playing with them, pulling them just until it became painful and releasing them afterwards.
Isolde let her hands wander lower afterwards. She didn’t waste much time, barely stopped to play with her navel or the curls atop her sex. She wanted, she needed, to feel her sex being caressed, to writhe in pleasure and enjoyment.
She spread her legs as far as she could, and her hands fell upon the now open passage, touching her sex and inner thighs, sharp nails pressing against her flesh until it became almost uncomfortable.
Memories of what happened with the witch made their best to come to the forefront of Isolde’s mind, and she moaned without quite meaning to, hating how they were able to incite her lust to new heights. She hated that she couldn’t deny her interest in the blonde, she hated that thinking about her only increased the pleasure she was feeling.
Her hips arched from the bed and helped her sex meet her hands, and fingers entered her, her own fingers, fast and hard, showing her just how wet the thought of the witch had made her.
Tension started building inside of her, her need becoming the most important thing in the world. It had been a long time since she had deigned to touch herself, and it was almost strange at first, but she soon found one can never truly forget such things. A fingertip sliding over her lips made her writhe, a hard digit entering her again and again made her thrust, and two fingers circling her clit made her groan in need.
Despite it all, it wasn’t easy for her to come. It was as if her body was rejecting her own touch, wanting to feel another’s hands against her, another’s … rod. The memory of the cock that grew between Daisy’s hips almost overwhelmed her, and gave her just the push she needed.
Her fingers moved faster, deeper and harder, and the tension built and built. She drew her legs closer to her body, contorting in ways she wouldn’t have at any other time, always hoping the next motion would be the one to trigger
her release, to make her explode in joy.
When that happened, she didn’t bother to stifle her own cries, not caring if others heard her. Prudes weren’t common in her country. As empress, she should present a more dignified facade, but no one would criticize her if she didn’t.
Her body shook and her mind almost disconnected for some moments. Isolde could only enjoy her orgasm, mewling cries escaping from her mouth as her fingers kept working until she was spent and tired atop her bed.
Soon after, she shook her head, trying to regain her senses. One of her legs was stiff, having ended up in an uncomfortable position under the other; there was sweat on her chest, between her breasts, and for a moment she wondered if she should take a bath, or do what she needed to and confront the witch. In the end, she figured a bath would only waste time, and be rendered useless soon after, if what she imagined came true.
She ended up only dressing herself in a light dress that glued itself to her body. She might not have the same curves the blonde did, and over the previous days she had grown exquisitely aware of those curves, but she was athletic enough that her body presented quite a nice figure.
If she paused for a second and thought about it, she would realize she hadn’t ever bothered to dress herself for someone else, to try to seduce them. She was the empress of a powerful empire, she was rich and attractive: people came to her, they tried to seduce her, she didn’t need to bother to seduce them.
Those servants that crossed her path on the way to Daisy’s laboratory got out of her way fairly quickly. They noticed how hurried their empress was, and the look in her eyes, and they figured they didn’t want problems.
She breathed deeply before entering Daisy’s room. Hesitation flared momentarily, but she shook her head and tried to ignore it; she had never allowed hesitation to take hold over her before.
“You can put it right there.”
It was the first thing she heard once she entered, and she stopped, suddenly, just blinking at the blonde witch who uttered the phrase. When the other woman didn’t turn, or pay any attention to her, she coughed, and again louder when that didn’t seem to work, and finally Daisy turned to glance at her.
